


Snotlout's Guide To Ruling Hell

by harrypanther, vala411



Series: The Wit and Wisdom of Snotlout Gary Jorgensen [6]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe-Demons and Hell, Angel!Dagur, Crack, Demon!Snotlout, F/M, GrimReaper!Heather, Harpy!Ruffnut, Harpy!Tuffnut, Hell is a bit like an office, Humor, King of Hell!Hiccup, Mythology mangled rather badly, No offence intended!, Ogre!Fishlegs, Succubus!Astrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28990077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vala411/pseuds/vala411
Summary: Unexpectedly finding himself a demon, Snotlout even more unexpectedly finds himself in temporary charge of Hell. What could possibly go wrong?(Definitely not waxing issues, strikes, inappropriate uniforms, exchange programmes, somewhat delayed sacrifices, scouts, dyslexic postmen, eager interns and probationary staff, chilli and amorous plants...)
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Series: The Wit and Wisdom of Snotlout Gary Jorgensen [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997134
Kudos: 28





	Snotlout's Guide To Ruling Hell

**Snotlout’s Guide to Ruling Hell**

**AN1: (Vala sits with Porg dressed as Anne Boleyn on the couch) “Hello all our readers. We are back again after consuming a lot of wine. Today we bring you a much more…. ‘Fiery’ guide.” (Porg meeps while trying to waddle in Medieval dress) I’m just here to state that no Demons, plants, and Greek historical figures were hurt (much) in the making of this story. NOW IT’S TIME TO HAVE SOME FUN!**

**AN2: *Rescues porg* (Vala glares at Harry and then pouts). No offence intended to any religion, belief system or other dearly held convictions.**

**DISCLAIMER: We don’t own ‘How To Train Your Dragon’. Rights remains with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.**

**-o0o-**

**Rule 1: Don't wax Satan's throne**

“Snotlout! Snotlout!” Was shouted as someone was shaking him. He grumbled and yanked the warm covers further over his head.

“Snotlout get up! We’re going to be late for work!” Again more shaking caused Snotlout to groan out “Five more minutes mom!”

“If I was your mother I’d already have taken a pitchfork to your behind!” Came the exasperated sigh. “You can’t be late for work. Do you want to face Astrid’s whip?!”

“I don’t work for Astrid,” Snotlout whined as he burrowed further into the bed. This however only earned him a scoff from the voice above. He cracked open a lazy eye to see Fishlegs hovering above him. Then he blinked and took a closer look. “Why do you have a horn on your forehead?”

“Because I’m a demon….” Fishlegs answered while blinking curiously at Snotlout as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean you have horns too. What else should we have? Halos?” Fishlegs actually scoffed at that idea.

Snotlout hesitantly brought his hands towards his forehead and felt two small horns at the sides. This caused him to scream, leap out of bed, and head for the nearest reflective surface which was a full-length mirror next to his wardrobe.

“I’m a demon! I’M A DEMON!” Snotlout was freaking out a bit but Fishlegs just sighed and then proceeded to drag him out of their shared room. 

“Come on,” Fishlegs said. “It’s time for work,” Snotlout was still too shocked to object, and then he realized where he was as Fishlegs was dragging him along. He was in Hell. The giant pools of magma and tormented souls kinda gave it away.

“You’re late,” Was the first thing Astrid said as the duo entered her office. She was hunched over a map of the nine layers of Hell and didn’t look up. Snotlout noted that this Astrid wore a lot more leather than the one he knew. Also, the spiky whip at her side was new. Further observation revealed that Astrid didn’t have horns but instead sported long black nails and a pointy tail. “Fishlegs I need you to sub in Purgatory, our Supervisor from there called in sick again. I think he’s faking so I’m going to pay him a visit.”

“Okay boss,” Fishlegs saluted.

“Snotout I need the throne room spick and span by this evening. I had to send most of our cleaning staff to the Hill of Nails because the twins blew something up again.” Astrid now looked up and raised a brow. “Hiccup will be back later today so I want that room gleaming.”

“Hiccup?” Snotlout asked with a frown. What did his cousin have to do with a throne room?

“Hiccup…..you know, Leader of all Hell, Lucifer, Satan, your boss,” Astrid said in a bored tone. “Snotlout did you fall in the Styx again?”

“Wait… wait…. Hold up. MY COUSIN IS SATAN?!?!?!?!” Snotlout exclaimed and nearly fainted.

“Get with the times Snot, Hiccup’s been in charge of Hell for at least four centuries now.” Astrid sighed. “Now both of you got your jobs for the day so get to it. We have a busy week,”

“Right…..” Snotlout mumbled as he left Astrid’s office in a daze. He was a demon that took some getting used to but his cousin being Satan was just too much to wrap his head around.

Surprisingly Snotlout easily found his way to the throne room, mainly due to the signs posted in every branching hallway. ‘People must have really been getting lost to resort to that,’ he mused. In the throne room, he met Gobber who was waiting for him next to a floor waxer.

“So lad, the floor needs waxing and the windows need to be cleaned. All the soot built up over the three days the maids been away.” Gobber clapped him on the back. “We’re a little short on personnel at the moment so it’s all yers.” Gobber then pointed towards a large tub of wax. “I got that in the human world. Been meaning to try it out for a while now. Well, good luck!”

After Gobber left Snotlout looked around the empty but grand throne room. He could do this. He totally could. Idly he wondered where the Devil went off to, hopefully not Georgia. 

A few hours later Snotlout was amazed at his progress. The windows had been the hardest to do but he got it done even if he had to climb a ladder. The floor seemed to be the easiest. Gobber’s wax worked miracles and as Snotlout looked at the imposing throne he got an idea. ‘Wouldn’t Hiccup like a clean and sparkly throne,’ he thought and when he had read the description on the wax Gobber provided it seemed like the perfect idea. ‘Unwanted dirt just slides right off,’ he had read. So with a whistle in his step, he started waxing Satan’s throne. ‘Astrid would be so surprised,’ he thought. 

When Snotlout was done the throne gleamed in all its Black Obsidian glory. Even the silver trim was shining and so Snotlout left the room happy. He saw Hiccup’s return but didn’t engage him as he and Astrid were acting all lovey-dovey while heading towards the throne room.

Snotlout was just turning a corner when he heard the scream of “ouch! WHO WAXED MY THRONE!” he realized what had to have happened. Hiccup sat down and slid off the throne. Snotlout decided to make a run for it. 

-o0o-

**Rule 2: Succubi should not be in charge of the wardrobe department**

“I really hate myself right now,” Snotlout groaned as he looked at the feather duster in his hand. Fishlegs just raised a brow and crossed his arms.

“Say something will you!” Snotlout exclaimed.

“What’s there to say? This is all your doing after all.” Fishlegs shrugged. Snotlout sputtered and then glowered. “Hey! How was I supposed to know Hiccup and Astrid would elope and leave me with the work of running Hell!”

“That didn’t mean you had to put the Succubi in charge of creating new uniforms.” Fishlegs groaned.

“Have you seen what we wear to work?” Snotlout exclaimed. “Tasteless loincloths, jumpsuits, leather!” 

“But why the Succubi?!” Fishlegs grumbled.

“What?! I thought they’d have great taste. They always get their man don’t they?” Snotlout argued. “In fact the succubi have the highest soul contract return rates in Hell. If they could increase productivity then I’d be up for a promotion when Hiccup and Astrid returned from their honeymoon.”

“And here we are.” Fishlegs crossed his arms. “Standing in the office in sexy French maid outfits. I don’t think these will increase productivity.”

“I know!” Snotlout groaned and then asked “Though does this skirt make my thighs look fat?”

-o0o-

**Rule 3: The Grimreapers Union is not to be underestimated**

“Where is he?!” Came the angry voice from the hallway and Snotlout flinched when the office door was kicked open by an irate black-cloacked Grimreaper. Snotlout gulped nervously, that was Astrid’s door. He had just taken over her office until she came back from her honeymoon but if there was even a mark on that door he was a dead demon.

“Heather please! I want to live!” He said to said Reaper. Both from her fury and Astrid’s oncoming one.

“Then do something about that!” Heather growled while pointing out the door. Snotlout craned his neck and frowned. There was an angel chatting up his, or rather Astrid’s, secretary. An honest to goodness angel…….. In Hell.

“Dagur get in here!” Heather growled. The angel walked into the office with a swagger and greeted Snotlout with “Yo little man,”

“I am not little!” Snotlout fumed. “I am the Ruler of Hell, temporarily,”

“Right, Hiccup finally got hitched,” Dagur said as if he only just realized.

“We are not here to talk about that. We are here to talk about why you are in Hell in the first place!” Heather’s brow twitched as she glared. “Not only are you staying in the Reaper dorms but you’re also taking the souls on OUR lists!”

The jurisdiction of souls was a testy subject between the reapers and the angels, so much so that it brought about several battles. “Hey take it easy sis. I already told you why I’m here. The exchange program remember. An angel and demon switch places for a year and all that.” Dagur clapped Heather on the shoulder but that only earned him a deadly glare in return.

“SHE’S YOUR SISTER?!” Snotlout realized just as Heather yelled “YOU’RE HERE FOR A WHOLE YEAR?!”

Heather turned towards Snotlout and jabbed her scythe into his neck when it had finally dawned on her that she’d be stuck living with her brother for a full year at the dorms. “You. Fix. This,” She ground out and Snotlout gulped nervously at the very sharp tool being so close to his neck.

“I didn’t even know we had an exchange program!” Snotlout defended as he backed away.

“Huh, but you signed the orders,” Dagur said and then magically produced a scroll. And indeed there at the bottom was Snotlout’s signature.

“All deals are final in Hell,” Dagur smirked. “I’m afraid you guys are stuck with me. Don’t worry sis, it will be like old times. If you want I can teach you how to make it rain snakes for funsies.”

“Snotlout I’m saying this now. If you signed that document without reading it I will gut you like a papaya!” Heather hissed. “As it stands the other reapers aren’t pleased either. They are threatening to strike!”

“Uhm….. a strike over this?” He gestured to Dagur.

“No reaper will work with an angel!” Heather hissed. “I don’t care if he’s my brother or not. This is a matter of professional pride!”

“Oh come on sis!”

Heather ignored her brother and glared at Snotlout “Do not underestimate the Union. We will mobilize! No souls are going to come into Hell if our demands aren’t met and if no souls come in then no one will get any work done.” She crossed her arms and then said “Think of all the backlog paperwork that will be on your desk.”

Snotlout took a step back and paled. He and almost every demon detested paperwork. They could be out there tormenting souls instead of being stuck behind a desk with mountains of paper that needed signatures. It didn’t help that paperwork in Hell was very fireproof. The need for such was well… the literal fire in Hell, the twins blowing up stuff and some demons purposely setting their paperwork on fire in the past to get out of it. Snotlout groaned. ‘Where in Heaven's name, pun intended of course, was he going to put an angel?’

-o0o-

**Rule 4: The river Styx is not to be used as a beach resort**

Snotlout finally had some time to himself and so he sank down onto the plush couch in the breakroom. Paperwork was done, he had even read some of them so he was mighty proud of himself. However his well deserved break was not meant to be because just as he was dozing off Fishlegs ran into the room and picked him up like a sack of potatoes.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH” Snotlout yelled as he was carried past the offices. Various demons poked their heads out to see what the commotion was about. “FISHLEGS PUT ME DOWN!” Snotlout exclaimed. Fishlegs, for a portly demon, could cover quite some ground if he wanted to.

When Snotlout was finally put down he was in front of some bus stop where quite a few demons were gathered. A lot of these demons had donned swimwear. Bathing Suits, snorkeling gear, the inflatable donuts and swans.

“What in Hell is going on?!” Snotlout asked as he took in the scene. Just then Dagur came walking over and greeted “Hey little man!”

“I AM NOT SMALL!” Snotlout fumed. “Just what is going on here?”

“I’m just doing my job,” The angel shrugged and then handed Snotlout a business card. On it it said ‘Dagur, Angel extraordinaire and Hell event coordinator.’

“Do you know there is an amazing lack of entertainment in Hell? Why even in Heaven we have golf and strip poker.” Dagur raised a brow when Snotlout sputtered at the thought of angels playing strip poker since they all acted like prudes to the demons.

“Snotlout, Dagur teamed up with the twins.” Fishlegs uttered. “You have to stop him…. Them… oh we just have to stop this. It’s a disaster waiting to happen!”

Snotlout flinched. He was wary of the twins. Those two demonic Harpies had roped him into their schemes too many times to count. The last scheme had him on a Hell Calander standing naked behind nothing but a ficus bush.

Snotlout shuddered and before he could utter a word edgewise Dagur had escorted him on the large tour bus that had apparently stopped there while he was lost in thought. Fishlegs followed close behind and had the logic to ask about their destination.

“Oh, you’ll love it! We made a beach resort for all the tired demons. So just sit back, relax and let's go have some fun!” Dagur clapped them both on the shoulders while the demons on the bus cheered.

Snotlout blinked owlishly when they finally got to their destination. The demons on the bus got off and immediately found some beach chairs.

“This…. This… THIS IS THE RIVER STYX!”

“Neat right,” Dagur said. “A nice cool river, a nice stretch of beach, some BBQ and cocktails,”

“THIS IS THE RIVER STYX!” Snotlout exclaimed again, dumbfounded.

The twins flew over at that exact moment and waved in greeting. “This is awesome right Snotman!” Tuffnut exclaimed. “We got prime real estate here.”

“We even have a hunky cabana boy. RAWR, such eyecandy,” Ruffnut chuckled as she pointed towards someone sitting on a rock while gazing in the water. 

“OH MY GO-” Snotlout choked at that sentence but continued on after a moment. “YOU CAN’T MAKE NARCISSUS INTO A CABANA BOY!”

“Why not?” Ruffnut shrugged. “He’s a hunk.”

Snotlout was sputtering again at Ruffnut’s comment but then Fishlegs pointed out something crucial. “We can’t let them swim. They’ll lose their memories.” But it was already too late as a large group was already happily splashing in the water. Snotlout paled, how was he going to deal with at least forty amnesiac demons.

-o0o-

**Rule 5: No sacrificial rituals... ever**

Snotlout was in the throne room looking at the imposing throne of the Ruler of Hell. ‘Technically he was the temporary ruler…… so sitting in it wouldn’t hurt, right?’ He thought as he carefully planted his behind on the throne. No lightning had struck him down yet so that was good…….

“Snotlout there you are!” Gobber came into the room and Snotlout shot right off the throne like he’d been burned.

“Yes… yes… I’m.. uhm here.” Snotlout said.

“Yer not waxing the throne again are ya?” Gobber asked while laughing. “That was funny though. Oh ya should have seen the look on Hiccup’s face.”

Snotlout might not have seen the look on his cousin’s face but he had felt the ire of Astrid in all her Succubi glory. Her whip hurt… a lot.

“Well since yer here lad we can go over the offerings.” Gobber took out a clipboard and jotted something down.

“Offerings? What offerings?” Snotlout was very curious. Just who would offer something to the Devil?

“Well it’s yer standard sacrificial offerings. Ye know, we’ve had a backlog for two centuries since no one wanted to transfer to that department. We finally got some new interns so as interim ruler you have to accept these offerings…..”

“Even if they are 200 years late?” Snotlout raised a brow.

“Yup,” Gobber said and then called for someone to “Bring them in,”

Snotlout was expecting jewels and the like… not…… not dead goat heads and other animal carcasses. The stench was unbearable for him and he wondered how Gobber could even stand all that. Snotlout wanted to vomit.

“So yeah….. We need to check these off one by one,” Gobber went on as Snotlout held a hand before his mouth. “We got the standard hundred for the beginning of the year but someone was really really overzealous. We have an additional four hundred offerings for March.”

“WE HAVE FOUR HUNDRED MORE OF THESE!” Snotlout exclaimed and his voice carried at a high pitch.

“For that year, yes. And then we got the other 199 years following.” Gobber looked nonplussed about it all.

“What in blazes are we even going to do with so many goat heads?! WHY COULDN’T SOMEONE SACRIFICE A FERRARI OR A PIZZA! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

-o0o-

**Rule 6: No day trips**

“Whose idea was this?” Snotlout moaned. There was a pause.

“I think Mildew suggested it,” Fishlegs admitted in an embarrassed voice. “You put up a suggestions box to keep Heather and Dagur happy. Then the twins set it on fire. Then Mildew put his suggestion in and as it was the only one that survived, you just signed the paper.”

Snotlout scowled at Phlegma, the slime demon who acted as PA to the Ruler of Hell. This had all the hallmarks of her work. Well, that and the fact that he had forgotten to read his papers-again-and he had just signed them when he realised the time and that if he waited, he missed all the good Danish. 

“So how did we actually persuade anyone to come on a day trip to Hell?” he asked. Fishlegs sighed.

“No one was very keen and Mildew retreated to Tartarus to continue tormenting people for all time…”

“Probably just by being there…” Snotlout muttered. Fishlegs shuffled his feet.

“So they asked the new guy. And he asked the Boy and Girl Scouts…” Snotlout stared.

“The Scouts? You mean there’s a party of kids coming to Hell?” he asked. Fishlegs nodded.

“They’re here to get their explorer badges,” he explained. “And they arrived half an hour ago.” Snotlout gulped.

“THEY’RE HERE?” he spluttered. Fishlegs nodded miserably.

“Yes-they headed off with the twins about half an hour ago…”

“YOU LET A GROUP OF SCOUTS GO ON A TRIP AROUND HELL WITH THE TWINS????” he screeched. Instantly he was up and haring off. Then he screeched to a halt, sprinted back and grabbed Fishlegs before dragging him off with him. “If I’m going down, you’re going down with me,” he muttered as they skidded off down the sulphurous corridors of Hades.

“I don’t see why I have to come,” Fishlegs huffed. “I didn’t come up with the idea and I wasn’t the idiot who signed the order…”

“But you’re good with kids…” Snotlout panted as they hurried down another level. Fishlegs groaned

“These new uniforms are really uncomfortable,” he moaned. “Black leather thongs, studded leather vest, strappy leather sandals with studs...I don’t think they’re any better than the other ones.” Snotlout snorted.

“How come the kids weren’t terrified?” he asked as they approached Tartarus. Fishlegs trotted to a halt and bent forward, hand pressed against his side due to a stitch.

“Two reasons,” he gasped. “One...they’re Berkian. They worship the Norse Gods. So no actual Hell...well, just Niflheim. And as it’s not cold and misty and full of ice, they’re fine. In fact they got one look at the flames and all looked really excited and started looking out for Surtur and the Fire Demons. And second...they’re kids. Have you seen what they watch on TV nowadays?” Snotlout paled.

“Um...no…” he admitted. “I find it too scary. I’ll stick to rom coms and cookery programmes.” He winced. “And don’t mention Fire Demons. Hiccy will probably go and hire some since he’s an Equal Opportunities Lord of Hell.”

Then they heard the screams and took off again...and then stopped in shock. Overheard, the twins were flying, each one giving a pair of excitedly screaming scouts an overhead view of Tartarus, the region Hiccup had inherited from Hades when he retired and had kept to maintain the traditions of his Ancient Greek inhabitants. And all around, there were scouts doing what scouts tended to do...helping.

“This leather doesn’t half chafe,” Fishlegs groaned.

“You’re not wrong,” Snotlout muttered as he watched, aghast. A team of scouts were helping Sisiphus secure a large rock at the top of a hill with a carefully constructed wall of rock and mortar. Tantalus was being given a nice cool drink of orangeade and some ham sandwiches by the scouts while Prometheus was having bandages wrapped around his wounds while the scouts were chasing a rather confused Eagle away while two were marking it off on a chart for their Ornithology badges. The other inhabitants were also being released and subjected to rather vigorous scout bandaging while the rest were generally tidying the place up. And to one side, Mildew-a particularly rancid and vicious demon-was moaning that they were ruining his fun. The twins were laughing uncontrollably as they landed and offered the next few scouts a ride. Even Mildew’s notoriously rabid and smelly sheep Fungus was being washed in the river and groomed by four determined-looking girl scouts. It was practically purring.

When the scouts had finished, the place looked like a pensioner’s garden, everyone appeared happy and well-fed and Mildew had stomped off with a migraine. A very fluffy Fungus with an improbable red ribbon around his neck was quietly chewing some grass as Snotlout shook his head.

“Right. We’ll get the twins to take them to Orientation before they ruin anything else and then you and I are signing another order to cancel all day trips. Permanently. And we’ll never speak of this again.”

Fishlegs looked around.

“Can we change the uniforms as well?” he checked. Snotlout sighed.

“Yes,” he groaned.

“Dib dib dib.”

-o0o-

**Rule 7: Don't advertise through the local paper for new staff**

It was shaping up to actually be a rather good morning. Snotlout had managed to scramble out of bed almost on time, had enjoyed an extra-large fried breakfast and he had been the first to the pastries in the coffee room so he was currently wandering through the uppermost level of Hell with a large mochaccino and a fresh Danish. In fact, everything seemed to be entirely peachy until he reached the front desk-and saw who was sitting there.

“Gustav? GUSTAV LARSSON????”

The teen sitting at the desk looked up from where he was trying to reassemble the Rolodex and gave a cheesy grin.

“The one and only!” he said brashly, his spiky black hair looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Snotlout Jorgensen! No one said you worked here.” 

Snotlout blinked and self-consciously felt for his horns. He was nothing if not vain about his appearance and though he was still in shock about apparently being a demon and having horns, he had searched the internet and managed to find some ‘horn wax’ on Amazon which meant his horns were in pristine condition. 

“Well, it’s not something you really talk about socially and…” He paused. “I didn’t know you were a demon.” Gustav frowned and tried to shove the telephone numbers back on the Rolodex, causing it to fall over.

“I’m not,” he muttered distractedly. “I’m just here for the day shift…” Snotlout blinked and realised the younger man was wearing a large red badge bearing the legend ‘Hello! My name is GUSTAV’.

“You come here each day to man reception?” he checked. Gustav looked up and nodded, carefully lifting the rather sad pile on papers and metal that used to be the Roladex and dumping it in the bottom drawer of his desk. He closed it quickly and tried to look nonchalant.

“Yup. There’s a really cool taxi that arrives everyday to take me from Berk to here. My Mum is a bit suspicious because it’s red not black like normal Berk taxis but the driver’s a real laugh. His name is Gravilexiletl. You know him?” Snotlout blinked. 

“Um...no?” he said, slightly disconcerted. This was what he remembered from High School: that Gustav was someone with no self-awareness, sense of propriety or ability to shut up. 

“Do I get horns like that when I properly work here or is it something you only get after promotion?” Gustav pressed on, sitting back and almost tipping his chair over. “Because they’re really cool. And shiny…” Preening, Snotlout opened his mouth and then shut it again.

“I really don’t know…” he mumbled. “Wait...you don’t work here properly yet?”

“I’m still on my probation,” Gustav told him cheerfully, rummaging in his top drawer and pulling out a can of soda. “The advert said ‘one month’s probation, transport included.’ Good wages too.”

“Advert?”

“Yes-I saw it in the ‘positions vacant’ column of the ‘Berk Viking’ weekly paper,” Gustav told him cheerfully. “Looked like a good job so I applied. This is my first day.”

“What did the advert say the job was?” Snotlout checked. Gustav nodded, popping the top of his can and swigging his cola.

“Meet and greet at reception,” he replied. “Check people in on the checklist in the Red Folder and direct them to Processing. Do I get danish as well?”

“Staff coffee room, third level, just past the lava pit” Snotlout mumbled automatically. “And did it say where this place was? What kind of business it was?”

“Well, the contract said ‘Hell Inc.’ so I guess that’s it,” Gustav replied as if it was obvious. “Is that apple or raspberry?”

“Apple, almond and cinnamon,” Snotlout replied. “And it doesn’t...er...bother you that you are welcoming the condemned souls to an eternity of torment?” Gustav shrugged.

“It’s better than working in fast food or retail,” he replied. “Much better wages, paid holidays and sick leave, great private health insurance and good prospects for promotion.” He grinned. “And if people gotta come here, wouldn't you rather see a friendly face rather than some miserable old woman?” Snotlout considered the late shift worker-a seven-eyed demon with tentacles for a mouth and the temperament of an irritated wasps nest. Between her and Gustav’s determined chatter and boundless enthusiasm, the tentacles were really looking attractive.

“I’m not sure it makes a difference,” he commented.

“Well, Hiccup was very insistent that I should be polite and friendly to the new arrivals,” Gustav told him. “He was really nice at my interview. Could you put in a good work for me? You know, when my probation is up?” Snotlout winced. Hiccup wasn’t going to be entirely happy at him for a number of things starting with the waxed throne incident…

“Are you sure you want to work here?” he checked. “I mean, there’s no sunlight, the new arrivals aren’t entirely nice people and…”

“Well, everyone has a bad day and it’s my job to be cheerful and welcoming,” Gustav said determinedly. “D’you think they would let me make a few changes around here? You know-to make it more welcoming?” Snotlout looked alarmed as he inspected the room. It was basically a small cave with a formica floor, a standard wooden desk with phone and previously with a Rolodex and bearing a large red and white sign saying RECEPTION.

“What changes?”

“Well-I could put up my metal posters to cheer the place up…”

“Posters…?”

“You know...Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Metallica, Motorhead…”

“ _Judas Priest?_ ”

“Yeah-have you heard them? They’re absolutely…”

“Um...no…”

“And I was thinking we need more plants down here. My Mum has four huge rubber plants she can give me and I’m sure Gravilexiletl can help me carry them from the taxi. And my Aunt Molly has a nice pink rug that would cheer up that corner. And we could provide some welcoming tea and cookies for the arrivals. I mean they look so miserable…”

“This is the entrance to Hell…” Snotlout began but Gustav grinned.

“Yeah-I’ve been thinking about that,” he added. “There really should be a few fire extinguishers here. Health and Safety, you know. And a first aid kit. I keep hearing screams and it’s clear this isn’t a very safe working environment so I need to be prepared in case anyone hurts themselves. I’ve been doing my online training… I wonder if they need a designated First Aider?”

Snotlout shook his head and sipped his coffee, imagining the entrance to Hell with assorted classic Heavy Metal posters, a pink rug, a station for tea and cookies and various health and safety notices and then he looked back at the eager face of Gustav. 

There were some jobs that definitely shouldn’t be advertised in the local paper.

-o0o-

**Rule 8: Don’t mistake Satan for Santa**

“How many are there today?” Snotlout groaned. Fishlegs looked up.

“Forty three,” he sighed.

“Forty three letters isn’t…”

“Forty three SACKS of letters,” the ogre told him, his husky body shuffling in the latest uniform that had been agreed between the Succubi, Grimreapers and Dagur who had managed to wrangle his way onto every committee in Hell. Admittedly a flowery yellow jumpsuit was less chafing than the leather but it wasn’t very hellish. Sometimes Snotlout could almost think that they designed the uniforms just to annoy him.

“SACKS?” he gaped when his brain had caught up with his ears. “I can’t read my normal paperwork. I’m not reading all those letters…”

“Um...they’re not for you anyway,” Fishlegs pointed out as Phlegma staggered in with another two sacks slung over her shoulders.

“Yeah, I know Hiccup is the Lord of Hell but I’m…”

“No-they’re not for Hiccup either,” Fishlegs sighed.

“Astrid? I mean she is super super _super_ hot…”

“Nope,” Fishlegs grinned. “They’re for Santa Claus.”

Snotlout spat out his strawberry white chocolate Frappuccino. 

“SANTA?” he choked. “Not Satan…” His eyes narrowed and then a huge grin covered his face. “We could…”

“No, we’re not going to…” Fishlegs said firmly.

“Not going to what?” Tuffnut asked, poking his head round the door of Hiccup’s office. “Mayhem?”

“Disaster? Fire and brimstone?” Ruff added hopefully. They had managed to singe their jumpsuits already.

“We are not rebranding Hiccup or Satan as ‘Santa’,” Fishlegs said firmly. 

“But…”

No.”

“Are you sure we can’t…”

“NO.”

“Aw...Fishy…”

“Do you want me to tell Astrid...AKA Mrs Santa?” Fishlegs asked sharply.

“Oooh. Someone’s been practising his demon lessons,” Ruff snarked. 

“Tyrant,” Tuffnut grumbled.

“So now we have forty five…”

“Forty eight…” Snotlout corrected.

“...bags of mail for Santa in the middle of Hell waiting for our glorious leader SATAN also known as your cousin Hiccup to return from his honeymoon and find...he’s going to kill you…” Fishlegs finished. Snotlout groaned.

“Can’t we just send some demons to sort out their wishes?” Snotlout suggested.

“Demons?” Dagur said, poking his head round the door and rolling his eyes. “Have you seen those guys? No offence but they’re programmed to mess things up and cause evil…”

“Setting Christmas trees on fire…” Tuff said nostalgically.

“Stealing toys…” Ruff added with a dreamy smile.

“And that would ruin Christmas for a lot of kids…” Snotlout mused.

“Um...Snotlout...we all work in Hell,” Ruff reminded him. “Our job is to make the world a worse place. And punish bad people for eternity…”

“And have some fun…” Tuff added.

“Or we could just dump them in the lava pit,” Fishlegs suggested.

“Then Santa wouldn’t know what they wanted for Christmas,” Snotlout protested.

“Are you SURE you’re a demon?” Dagur checked. “You don’t seem to have really got the hang of it…”

“And you do?” Snotlout snarked.

“I’m an angel. I fit in anywhere,” Dagur retorted. 

“May I remind you Mr and Mrs almost-but-not-quite Santa Claus are actually due back in a couple of days?” Fishlegs added. “You could do the demony thing…”

“Or we could get Hell a good name,” Snotlout decided and looked at the twins. “Okay you two. Very Important Mission. You are to fly all these sacks of letters up to the North Pole and collect any of our mail from Santa. I mean, if we have a dyslexic postman, it stands to reason he’s been getting ours…” 

There was a horrible pause as everyone recalled the standard of letters they tended to get...and the kind of people who wrote to the Lord of Hell. Apart from the catalogues, of course.

“Okay-so Santa is probably manufacturing the worst toys in history and ordering some rather dubious products from _Demon and Succubus_ magazine,” Snotlout guessed. “Get those letters to Santa now. I know Hiccup won’t want all this mess hanging around when he gets back.” And then he paused, concentrated and a single letter squirmed out of one of the sacks and flew into his hands. 

“What’s in there?” Fishlegs asked as Snotlout finally gave a mildly demonic smile. 

“It’s the postman’s letter to Santa,” he explained. “Once the twins have gotten all the other letters to the North Pole and Gustav has phoned the Post Office to prevent any more aberrant deliveries, we are all organising this guy’s Christmas between us. Because I think I don’t want anyone else ever again mistaking Santa with Satan.”

-o0o-

**Rule 9: Satan's bathtub is not to be used to make chili con carne**

“CHILI NIGHT???” Snotlout groaned, closing his eyes and sinking down behind his huge pile of paperwork. He was sure Fishlegs and Phlegma sneaked it in while he was getting his coffee and danish. “What is this...a family concept restaurant?”

Heather chuckled.

“It was an agreement between Hiccup and the GrimReaper Guild that we have a themed dinner every week-and it’s our turn to choose,” she said. “The demons always like a good hot chilli. And we Reapers love a Reaper chilli or ten in ours…” 

“Okay...so why are you asking me?” Snotlout asked.

“Well, the Succubi had tuna salads on their night, the twins ordered in pizzas and the Ogres all got Fish and Chips,” she explained. “But the problem is that Astrid is a dreadful cook.”

Snotlout shuddered. Not even Hiccup would inflict his girlfriend-well now _wife’s_ -cookery on the damned souls in Hell. There were some punishments that were just too severe. 

“We all know that.”

“Well, she might have got a bit frustrated the last time she attempted to cook something romantic for Hiccup and she kind of broke pretty much all the pans in the main kitchens except the giant rice kettle...which we’re using for the rice…” Heather explained, leaning against the doorframe. She was much more relaxed now Dagur was out on patrol with the twins. “So we were thinking...could we use Hiccup’s bath.”

“His bath?”

“Well, it’s a lovely cast iron thing that we could build a fire under and will make enough chili for pretty much all the demons in Hell,” she suggested.

“Hiccup’s bath…”

“Yes.”

“And you want to set it on fire?”

“Only a small fire underneath it…”

“You realise he had that put in for romantic bathing with Astrid. Which they’ll want to get up to after they come back from their honeymoon. And I doubt they’ll want to get upto it in a bath full of chili…”

“Relax. The chili will be gone long before he gets back,” Heather told him. Snotlout sighed and tried his coffee. All four cups were empty. 

“I’m really not…” he began.

“Do I need to call the GrimReapers out on strike again?” she threatened him and he sagged. There was a thud as his head hit the table.

“All right...but you have to promise to clean it up afterwards,” he sighed. She grinned.

“Promise,” she said. “COME ON, GIRLS!”

“Oh, I am going to regret this,” he sighed as he followed her to the quarters of Satan, Lord of Hell, Master of the Underworld...otherwise known as his cousin. The Grim Reapers were carrying huge bags of mince, chopped onions, kidney beans, chillies, garlic, tomatoes, condiments and other things that Snotlout didn’t recognise. Another group were carrying logs, coals and bellows to modulate the flames while Heather twriled an extra-large mixing spoon in her hand.

Hiccup’s huge bathroom was classy and unlike what you would expect in Hell. The walls were a relaxing white tile, the window showed a scene of green fields from about a hundred miles away and long net curtains fluttered in a beautiful balmy breeze. A classic cast iron claw-footed extra-large bath sat proudly in the middle of a whitewashed wooden floor while shelves held various multicoloured bottles of products. A pair of toothbrushes leaned against one another on the marble double sink and a pair of pale blue towels hung neatly from the heated rail. The place smelled vaguely of lavender.

“Wow. This is nice,” Snotlout murmured and instantly realised this was probably a horrible mistake. The Grimreapers were busily building the fire and lobbing ingredients into the tub-after carefully hammering the plug into place. Snotlout shuddered. There was only so much mince a demon could look at before vegetarianism started to look attractive. Heather was grinning wildly as she began to crush in chilli after chilli.

“Carolina Reapers-obviously,” she said smugly. “About fifty.” Snotlout gulped. It was a big batch of chilli to be sure but that much extra hot chilli could probably incinerate half the demons in Hell. He wondered if he should make sure Mildew was coming for dinner…

“Aren’t they a little warm?” Fishlegs asked timidly. Snotlout sighed. He should have known that the Ogre would turn up...not that he minded Fishlegs. His husky friend had made his temporary stewardship of Hell almost bearable. In parts. Sometimes…

“Nah. These are demons,” Heather assured him. “They like it hot.” And she dumped another huge bowl of lightly chopped Reaper chillis in.

“How hot are they?” Snotlout asked in a low voice.

“Supposed to be one of the hottest up there,” Fishlegs whispered back, gesturing upwards.

“And about a pound of them?”

“Very hot,” Fishlegs said. “I’ve got some takeout menus in my room.” Snotlout frowned. The fire was licking the bathtub and the mixture was beginning to bubble. Heather was stirring madly like a witch, ensuring the chillies were well mixed in. “Um...they do know that’s a classic mortal bathtub, right? Hiccup is very proud of it.”

“It’s not enchanted. Or magic in any way?” Snotlout checked.

“Nope,” Fishlegs said as they both stared.

“So that’s why the chilli has just dissolved the bottom out and is leaking over the floor…” Snotlout said, backing away.

“And dissolving the floor as well,” Fishlegs said in a quavering voice “Oh dearrrrr…”

“Okay Heather-you promised to clean up. I’m holding you to that!” Snotlout shouting, running for the door “Fishlegs-curry or Chinese?”

“I don’t care...as long as it isn’t chilli,” Fishlegs said.

-o0o-

**Rule 10: Hell plants can get.... overly affectionate**

“SNOTLOUT WE’RE BACK!” Astrid proclaimed as she and Hiccup waltzed into her office only to see a very harried looking Snotlout passed out on a stack of paperwork.

“Huh, complaint forms are out front!” Snotlout said before he could focus on who had entered. Huh…. Astrid?” He blinked again and when he saw that Astrid and Hiccup weren’t figments of his imagination he all but ran up and hugged them. “I am so glad you two are back!” Snotlout exclaimed and then handed Astrid a pen and a stack of paper. “I’m free! I’m finally free!”

“Do I want to know?” Hiccup whispered to his new wife who just shrugged but took the offered items.

“Oh, before we forget,” Hiccup said as he fished out a package from the bag he was holding. “We went to Japan’s underworld hot springs and brought you a souvenir.” Hiccup pulled out a small swaying Hell Bonsai and handed it to Snotlout.

“Wow, thanks man!” Snotlout said and then inched towards the door. “I’ll just let you two love birds catch up….. And if anyone asks, you don’t know what the maid outfits in your closets are for……. Also… pleasedontbemadaboutthetub…... BYE!!” With that Snotlout was gone like lightning leaving both Astrid and Hiccup flummoxed. 

Once back in his room Snotlout set the bonsai on his nightstand and gave it some water. There was one thing about Hell plants. They were marginally sentient so the bonsai purred when it got hydrated. “Well aren’t you pretty,” Snotlout cooed to the plant.

He probably shouldn’t have said that. Misunderstandings happen from time to time between demons and plants. This was one such misunderstanding as the plant grew larger and his branches started to hug Snotlout.

“ACK!” Snotlout managed to utter as he tried to get free. But it was to no avail. The bonsai purred happily as it hugged its new owner in a very strong grip.

With a start Snotlout jumped out of bed in his still dark room and felt about him. “It was a dream, it all was a dream!” He exclaimed when he realized he didn’t feel any horns on his head. Sighing happily he flopped back down on the pillow and turned towards his nightstand only to scream as he saw a bonsai innocently sitting next to his alarm clock.

**The End**

  
  



End file.
